Page 3 of The Forbidden Sitter
Aggravated, she snarled, “I don’t care if you believe me. I just wanted to let you know you have a kid, and I can’t do this anymore. He’s yours or social services. Choose.Now.”
“Wait. What?” For the second time that day, I was being forced into an instant decision, but this time the stakes were infinitely higher. “Social services?” I echoed in disbelief, grateful that the boy was clueless about what he was hearing as he giggled and decorated himself with sticky papers. “What the hell is wrong with you? He’s yourchild!”
“And yours,” she retorted. “I’m not mother material. Are you listening to me at all, Gannon Forester? I’m tired of talking. I’ll just take the kid and dump him on social services’ doorstep. I can see you’re not going to be a father to him.” She started toward the boy, who dropped his newfound papers toys and shrank back into his seat. I felt a jolt of electricity shoot throughme.
“Hey, wait a minute.” I stepped in front of her and the desk. The words that came out of my mouth didn’t even sound like mine. “Listen, give me time to get a DNA test done. If he’s mine, then I wanthim.”
Wait—what did I justsay?
“One week. You have one week, and that is it, Gannon Forester.” She stalked around me, picked up the boy, whose big eyes were suddenly filled with tears, and left my office in such haste that I had to run to catch up toher.
“I need your phone number and address.” I grabbed a notepad off Janine’s desk and a pen as I hurried afterher.
She stopped then and dumped Braiden—that was his name, right?—on top of the desk while she scribbled those things down on the paper. As she scrawled, pressing hard enough to undoubtedly indent the whole notepad, I hesitantly leaned in to check on the toddler. His dark hair did look a lot like mine, but plenty of kids had dark hair. And his wide blue eyes, gleaming with unshed tears, well, they kind of looked like what I saw in the mirror first thing every day, but still … just … not apossibility.
“Hey, buddy.” I smiled at him and handed him a fresh pad of Post-Its, these far more colorful than the ones from my own office. “How are youdoing?”
Braiden sniffed and smiled back shyly, his pudgy little hand scrubbing across his eyes in a way that made those newly-discovered heartstrings twang onceagain.
Shovingthe paper and pen back in my hands, Cassandra picked Braiden up like a sack of potatoes. “He can’t talk, you idiot. He’s onlytwo.”
Stifling my anger, I straightened. “I think toddlers can usually talk. Mom just used to say that by the end of the evening, she’d have no ears left from mychatter.”
“Well. He’s stupid,” Cassandra informed me, and it was all I could do to keep from reaching out and wringing her scrawny neck. “I better hear from you by the end of the week, or it’s off to foster car for yourson.”
And with that, she left my office with my potential son looking forlornly over her shoulder, one small hand stretched out tome.
Chapter2
Brooke
The first dayof November had a chilly breeze washing over our city of Los Angeles. Wearing a light sweater over my t-shirt and blue jeans, I was ready for autumn to take over for a while, leaving the heat of summer behindus.
My heels clicked along the sidewalk as I made my way to meet my brother, Brad, for lunch at Pitfire, a pizza joint my brother and Iloved.
A whistle caught my attention, and I looked around to find Brad getting out of his brand-new Lambo, the fire-engine-red exterior sure to capture everyone’s attention. “Hey, showoff.”
His hand ran over the hood of the car as he made his way to me. “You like my newest ride, babysis?”
“It’s awfully bright. Did you really have to go all out and get fire-engine-red, Brad?” I crossed my arms as I stood there, looking at the high dollar piece ofmachinery.
My brother had struck it rich when he went to work for Forester Industries right out of college. From there, he jumped off into his own business venture, procuring investments overseas for wealthypeople.
Brad came up to me, holding out his arms for a hug, which I gave him. “That’s not fire-engine-red, little sis; it’s called Rosso Mars, and that particular model is an AventadorCoupe.”
“Fancy.” I kissed his whisker-covered cheek. “So, you’re sporting a beard now. How fashionably progressive of you. But it needs more conditioner; it tickles mylips.”
His eyebrows wiggled as he grinned. “That’s what shesaid.”
I punched him in the arm. “Eww!Nasty!”
“I didn’t mean anything dirty by it, kid.” He looped his arm through mine, leading me into the eatery. “Get your mind out of thegutter.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned into him, not about to say I’d missed him while away at college, even though Ihad.
After being seated in what used to be our usual booth and ordering a blistered cherry tomato pizza and some root beers, my brother and I started catching up. I had been away, staying in the dorms at Berkeley for the last year. With my first year of college behind me, I was excited about my future and the new semester that I was a couple of monthsinto.
Brad had been gone all summer, having to work overseas, and had only been back a couple of weeks. He told me he was eager to talk to me and find out how my schooling was going. “So, how did you like your firstyear?”.
